


Rebuilding Paradise

by NegativeSpaceWalk



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assumed Character Death, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Memory Alteration, Non-consensual Medical Procedures, Tahiti is a Magical Place, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6457465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegativeSpaceWalk/pseuds/NegativeSpaceWalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebuilding is the act of repairing, reshaping and revising something. Unfortunately it’s often that the more you need to rebuild the more of the original you have to destroy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I'm avoiding my thesis...  
> Not beta read so if you catch any mistakes let me know.  
> If you have any questions about the tags or just want to talk I'm also NegativeSpaceWalk on tumblr.

Phil felt the metal growing cold under his hand as he scrubbed the baked on chocolate off the metal sheet. The baking sheet fit awkwardly into the sink, but Phil was well practiced at keeping the water from splashing all over the counters.

It would be peaceful if not for the sawing noise that seemed to be vibrating straight into his skull. He would complain but Clint took great pride in all the renovations he was making to the cabin and Phil enjoyed the results, so he figured he could endure the process.

The smell of cleaning products wafted in, fighting with the smell of the cooling scones. Clint must be close to done cleaning if the smell was so strong. Phil’s only rule about the renovations was that Clint had to clean up before he tracked sawdust or paint into the remodeled kitchen.

The window above the sink let Phil watch the sunlight glint off the lake through the trees that screened them off from the neighbors. It was a compromise between the two of them when they set out to find a retreat. They had agreed to find a place in the mountains, that they found a place near a lake was a huge bonus in Phil’s mind. Phil enjoyed swimming but hated the beach, having spent too much time in the desert to want to be covered in sand for fun.

The cabin they found was in an old growth forest which meant Clint had options when he felt like climbing trees and the lake was large enough to satisfy Phil while small enough that Clint could easily see all of its edges. Clint disliked any large bodies of water and after some of their missions Phil really couldn’t blame him.

It had started out as a rental whenever they found the time for a vacation but after Clint had proposed by the lake after New Mexico they decided to buy the place out right. It was nice not to have to worry about other renters accidently compromising the security of the place anymore.

Phil was broken out of his thoughts when he felt Clint’s hand come to rest at his hip pressing them back to chest while Clint nuzzled into Phil’s neck. Phil let his head fall back onto Clint’s shoulder, careful not to bump Clint’s hearing aids, enjoying as Clint’s mere presence started to unspool the tension from his body.

Clint pulled his head up and raised his hand from Phil’s hip the the side of his neck. “Damn babe, you okay? I don’t think I’ve seen you this tense in awhile.”

Phil closed his eyes and let out a small groan of pleasure at the feel of Clint’s hands on him “I’m fine, just a headache. I think I needed this vacation more than I thought.”

Phil decided to turn in Clint’s hold wanting a chance to grope his husband’s beautiful backside while still enjoying his embrace. Phil managed the turn but his plans stalled when instead of the jeans Clint always wore on vacation his hands came into contact with heavy weave of ripstop fabric.

Opening his eyes Phil stepped back and was greeted with the dull black on black of a tactical uniform. When Phil’s eyes finished roaming over the unmarked uniform and landed on Clint’s eye he could swear he felt his heart stop.

Clint’s face was sickly pale, capillaries burst in random locations and not even during sleep deprivation training had Phil seen insomnia bruises so bad on Clint’s face.

And Clint’s eyes were more red than white, blood pooled from broken veins in the sclarea. And his irises

_Heart rate is increasing_

His irises were a sickly blue, almost glowing like

_He’s rejecting the Procedure_

Like the tesseract, and Clint was

_The Treatment’s not going to work like this_

Clint was compromised and Natasha

_If we push any more drug mix his heart could fail_

Natasha was going to intercept him and

_We’ll just restart it again_

And she did, Barton was down

_He need to be out now or there will be nothing to bring back_

It was the last thing he heard before he died

_The drugs are kicking in, brain activity is dropping_  

Because Clint was dead too

 

 

\---

 

 

Phil set the book he was trying and failing to read down. He must have accidently picked up one of Clint’s physics books because no matter how he squinted at the words they never resolved into anything with meaning. He supposed it could have been in another language but Phil had only brought a book in russian with him and Clint always preferred his foreign language books on tape anyway.

Phil spared one last glance at the book before he slouched back in his chair and gave in to the urge to rub at his forehead. Trying to read had done nothing to distract him from his headache anyway. He rubbed at his arms through the knit of his sweater, it seemed the heater hadn’t fully kicked in yet.

Standing up Phil made his way into the kitchen for a drink and a couple of painkillers. The front of the new stainless steel fridge was cold under his touch and he wondered if the temperature knob had been changed again. No matter what Clint thought, allowing the fridge to freeze things did not actually make them last longer.

Gabbing painkillers from the cabinet and downing them with most of a glass of water Phil decided to wander the rest of the cabin looking for Clint. It still seemed a little surreal that the place was theirs alone now. He didn’t hear any noises from the other rooms but if Clint had found a random spot to nap in he wouldn’t hear anything anyway. Clint was always silent when he slept, even through the nightmares. Phil tried not to think to hard about the reasons why unless he had something nearby to take his anger out on.

A pile of newspapers and bottles sitting on what passed for their dining table caught his attention as he moved through the cabin. Phil dropped his now empty glass on the table and walked around it until he was standing above the mess.

One of Clint’s wooden bows was sitting on the table, sheets of newsprint protecting the table underneath. Phil huffed out a small laugh at the memory of the many small squabbles it took to get Clint to be tidy while maintaining his bows. He took great care with the bows but everything else was up to chance. The table and the bow might both be wooden but they certainly needed different kinds of care and the many oddly stained patches on the table attested to that. Phil idly wondered if Clint had switched cleaning products recently, these smelled far more astringent than the all natural products Clint usually preferred.

Phil was about to continue his search for his husband when a picture on the newsprint under the bow’s riser caught his attention. It was a picture of Pegasus which shouldn’t be possible because even though it was a joint operation with NASA it was still classified.

He ran his finger down the long column of text next to the picture, the words still wavered in his sight but he could recite them from memory anyway. Abe, Ackerman, Attar, Baker, Banderas all people lost during the fall of Pegasus. His hand stuttered as the next name came to mind.

Barton.

_Its starting again_

Barton had been lost in pegasus

_You didn’t take enough_

Barton was compromised

_His death is gone what else can you justify taking_

He was compromised and Natasha

_More apparently, he’s rejecting it again_

Natasha did her job as horrible as it was

_It’s going to be irreversible at this point if you don’t push the drugs_

Barton is dead

_Increase the dosage it’s not working_

So Phil is too

 

 

\---

 

 

Phil almost skipped as he hauled the beach chair down the shore. It didn’t even matter that the aluminum frame was freezing in his grip from where is was stored in the shade of the shed. It was a fairly cold day out overall but he couldn’t wait to go for a swim. It didn’t matter how many showers he’s taken between here and the New Mexico fiasco, it still felt like there was sand everywhere. The cool lake water was the perfect thing to banish the feeling of grit and dust from his skin.

Phil striped down to his swim trunks with speed born of Ranger training and made his way into the water at a sprint. The difference in temperature is enough that when he plunged fully underwater it felt like being smacked in the head. It was worth it though because he no longer felt sand everywhere.

It took a few laps to warm his body enough so that he was not shivering in the water. He could have kept swimming but floating in the gentle waves seemed like a much better idea. Phil let his body relax completely into the hold of the water.

There was no need to think while floating there. Hammers and aliens and other dimensions were worries for when he wasn't at the cabin. Phil was glad Fury had approved their vacation time, they had needed it and he was sure that Captain America would still be defrosting when they got back.

It was almost perfect but there was something missing, he couldn’t feel his boyfriend's gaze on him. Phil let his body sink down into the water until he was floating upright. The light bouncing off the waves and seemingly straight into his eyes made it hard to see, but Phil was pretty sure there was no movement in any of the large trees that surrounded the lake.

Sure Clint could be absolutely stealthy when he wanted to be, but he usually didn’t bother when they were here. They had compromised on the lake because Phil loved to swim so in return Clint kept an eye on Phil whenever he went swimming. It didn’t matter how skilled a swimmer Phil was Clint just didn’t trust large bodies of water.

Phil could count on a single hand the number of times Clint had let him swim without some kind of observation. Usually it was when there was other people out and about on the lake, but that wasn’t the case today. Phil doubted Clint would have left him alone even if there was other people around because Clint would barely take his eyes off of him after Phil had come face to face with the destroyer.

Phil really couldn’t blame him for it, the destroyer was enough to injure a god, nonetheless kill a human. Which was important because

_Fuck it’s starting again_

Because Loki needed to go down

_What the hell triggered it this time_

Loki had Clint

_Obviously it’s not what it’s who_

Loki had Clint and Barton was compromised and

_Heart rate is up, brain activity is spiking_

No one was doing what they should but Natasha

_You know the drill, start pushing the drugs_

Natasha intercepted Barton while Phil

_Turn the damn machine off first_

Had a spear through the chest and he was clocking out

_Come on, come on it’s not going to work at this rate_

Because Barton was down

 

 

\---

 

 

Phil sat on the shore about ready to pack up. It was too cold to swim but the sound of the waves had been comforting. Now though the wind that was causing the waves had started to drive a chill into his bones.

Phil groaned as he stood up, stretching and trying to shake the aches and pains from his body. He let out a hiss as the cold metal frame of the beach chair stung at his bare skin. He really should have gone inside before the sun started setting.

After shutting the beach chair back in the shed so next renters could find it Phil made his way up the back porch and into the kitchen. The contrast between the dark twilight and the buzzing fluorescents seemed to scythe into his brain. Phil took a few seconds to blink the spots out of his eyes before turning to rummage in the beat up fridge.

Setting down the fixings for a sandwich on the counter Phil couldn’t help but think the room would be much improved by a little more light. If you just punched a hole into the wall you would get a great view of the lake. It was a tempting idea but Phil really did not need to add the bill for property damage to the already pricey rental cost.

Phil took his sandwich into the living room, sneezing at the smell of the industrial disinfectant that was used on the place between renters. He all but fell into the worn loveseat, balancing the plate on the armrest. It was a cozy enough space, just a little bit too big for one person. He really shouldn’t come here alone. He never did come here alone

_Brain activity is spiking again_

Clint was always with him but

_Are you fucking kidding me with this, what was it_

Clint couldn't be here because

_He’s fighting the Procedure_

Barton’s been compromised and 

_He’s going to be wiped blank at this point_

Barton is down

_I don’t know how much more of this his brain can take_

Barton isn’t here

_Pushing the increased dosage now_  

Because Barton is dead

 

 

\---

 

 

The sun is blinding even through closed eyelids but Phil didn’t want to move, the heat felt far too nice after the chill of medical. He finally has to give up and pull the umbrella back over himself when the heat and the light start giving him a pounding headache.

A stiff drink would have been wonderful right now but Phil knew it wouldn’t mix well with his probable dehydration and it would be an especially bad idea with all the medication he’s on. He ignored the slight twinge in his chest as he reached over to the cooler that was half buried in sand.

He lets his hand linger on the cooler’s lid for a few seconds enjoying the contrast of heated skin and chilled metal. The need for water quickly won out though so he popped the latch and grabbed a water bottle draining it in one long pull.

Tossing the empty bottle back into the cooler Phil slumped down into lounger breathing in the scents of the sea breeze and whatever disinfectant they use on the beach towels. There was no one here except him and the staff.

_He’s stable we can finish the Procedure_

It really was a luxury to be utterly alone with no one demanding his attention.

_I’m sure he is, we’ve taken almost everything_

Phil stretched out the stiffness in his shoulders and back from physical therapy, letting his feet dig into the sand while his arms reached above him.

_Fury approved the Procedure_

He really was going to owe Fury for letting him recover in such a nice location.

_I’m not sure he understands what’s been taken_

It seemed like what they said was true

_The Treatment better stick this time_

Tahiti was a magical place

_Lets hope he doesn’t end up like the other poor bastards_


	2. Chapter 2

Phil woke with the feeling of sand covering his skin and the nauseating knowledge that his mind was not his own.

The moment his muscles unlocked from their nightmare induced rigidity Phil rolled off the bed and darted into the bathroom almost slamming into the shower wall in his haste. He cranked the shower to it’s highest setting not caring that the water was ice cold and he was still fully clothed.

Phil stood under the spray shaking with the effort to not start raking his nails across his skin to try and rip away the feeling of the false memories.

The water shifting from icy to mildly warm caught Phil’s attention and he opened his tightly clenched eyes to see Clint adjusting the temperature knob. Phil was still so rattled that he couldn’t enjoy the sight of his husband stripping out of the boxers that Clint wore for pajamas.

Clint stepped into the stall with Phil carefully moving the other man around until Phil was pressed tightly into Clint’s chest the man’s arms wrapped securely around Phil’s still shaking body.

Clint didn’t let go of Phil until Phil felt less like trying to remove his skin bare handed and managed to relax his hands from where they'd been clenched into fist. He managed to keep his hands relaxed long enough to press them against the curves of Clint’s back. Clint carefully extracted himself from the hold only long enough to pull the drenched t-shirt and pajama pants off of Phil and toss them into the sink before wrapping Phil right back up into the hug.

Eventually Clint grabbed a soft washcloth and some of the scented body wash, lathering it up so he could wash Phil from head to foot. The gentle touches slowly erased the feeling of grit and violation that nightmares brought with them. The tenderness that Clint showed was just another of the thousand reasons why Phil loved him so much.

Clint leaned in mid-wash to lay a series of kisses down the scar on Phil’s chest. Phil had to hold back a sob. He had almost lost this, no it wasn’t almost, he had lost it. He had been made to forgot their marriage, he had forgotten Clint was ever more than just an agent he had supervised on occasion. 

Clint must have noticed Phil’s mind drifting because he laid a gentle kiss against Phil’s lips. He wasn’t trying to start anything, just a simple reminder. Clint was here and so was Phil, and it might be a little bit broken but they could work with that. Phil returned the kiss and went back to focusing on the drag of his husband’s callused fingers against his skin.

Phil didn’t know how long they stayed in the shower, the tankless water heater was a worthwhile investment on nightmare riddled nights. Finally he was able to meet Clint’s eyes and give a small nod. Clint stepped out of the shower and toweled off before going to grab fresh clothes for the both of them.

Phil waited until Clint was back in the bathroom to cut the water and start toweling off. He didn’t feel like tearing at his skin so much anymore, but he also never felt like carving circles and lines into the wall until the second it hit either. Having Clint there to stop him just in case was comforting.

When they were both dressed and dried they made their way to the kitchen for hot cocoa. Clint filled the kettle and set it on the burner while Phil leaned back against the counter and examined the pictures littering the fridge. There were pictures of people from Shield, the Bus team, and the Avengers and associates all mixed together and held up with novelty magnets from around the world. His family found and fought for laid out in front of him.

There were so many memories shown there that were still hazy through the obscuring veil of Tahiti. No one could say if they would ever come back in full, there was possibly too much damage done during the repeated overwriting of the neural passages. They were still just as precious to Phil as the new crystal clear memories though.

The click of mugs pulled Phil out of his thoughts and Phil signed a quick “I love you” as Clint passed a cup of cocoa to him. Phil managing to follow it up with a quick peck on the cheek. Clint just smiled and wrapped an arm around Phil’s shoulders, pulling him close.

The doctors and scientist had tried to build a paradise in his head but they removed the only person who could have made it real. Here in a house that was continuously being renovated, that was filled with pictures and mementos of their family, here was paradise.

  
Clint was here, and so was Phil.


End file.
